


The Gilded Cage

by little_abyss



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Adoribull Prompt Sunday, Chases, Fluff, M/M, Playing Hard to Get, Realisations, True Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-03
Updated: 2015-11-03
Packaged: 2018-04-29 17:51:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5137082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/little_abyss/pseuds/little_abyss
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>From this anonymous prompt: bull chasing dorian around his room C: </p><p>C: indeed, Nonny.  C: indeed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Gilded Cage

“C’mere.”

 

Bull holds his arms wide from across the room.  But this is Dorian’s domain, and he is feeling perverse this evening, troublesome.  There has been something bothering him, something which he cannot, will not put a name to.  He wants to play, to make Bull work for his affections; to break something, resist.  So he cocks his head and smirks. “No.”

 

Bull exhales sharply, a soft laugh.  “C’mon.”  He waggles the tips of his fingers in a beckoning gesture.  “I’ll make it worth your while.”

“Oh you  _ will _ _,_ will you?  And how do you plan to do that?”  Dorian picks up a glass bottle of some lotion or other from the nearby vanity.  He examines it idly, watching the light reflect his image back at him from the multifaceted surface.  “I don’t know, Bull.  Perchance I’m not in the mood to make things easy for you.”

 

“You’re never in the mood for that.  That’s why you’re so appealing.”  Bull narrows his eye, grinning.  He shifts his bulk, and Dorian wonders all over again how a man that large could move with so much fluid grace.  He shuffles his feet slightly, still smiling coyly.  He watches as Bull crouches slightly, trying to mask the gesture as simply shifting against the wall he is leaning on, on the other side of the bed.  So this will be the game.  The chase.  Dorian tries to adjust his facial expression, trying to exhibit some form of nonchalance, but feels the excitement rise within him.  He would also be lying if he tried to deny how much of a turn on it is, that look of hunger on Bull’s face, the thrill of knowing and not knowing what Bull will do once he catches him.

 

And suddenly, Bull is off the wall, striding quickly across the room.  Dorian laughs, just dancing out of Bull’s clutches.  He’s not quite as quick about it as he had planned - Bull stretches slightly, catching a slip of Dorian’s loose linen shirt in-between thumb and forefinger, which Dorian quickly pulls free.  Then he is up, onto the bed, bare feet sinking into the mattress, laughing as he bounds across the bed.

 

Bull scrambles over after him, laughing himself, on his hands and knees.  Dorian runs around the bed, looking back over his shoulder, grinning as Bull clambers off the bed.  He stops, waiting as Bull walks slowly toward him.  The pace is measured, like a predator stalking its prey, and Dorian’s breath hitches in his lungs.  He is enjoying the game, loves the way that Bull will play; the lightheartedness of it makes him… no.  He pushes the thought away, trying not to notice the way it catches around the edges of his consciousness, whispering  _ you can deny it, but you know what this is, what it’s always been. _  He waits, watching as Bull pauses.  The moment seems to stop, like they are both holding their breaths, then they move at the same time - Dorian pivoting neatly to the side, Bull leaping forward.  Unfortunately, Dorian is too close to the wall, and Bull’s forward momentum carries him forward to crash against it heavily.

 

Dorian looks over his shoulder again, checking to see if Bull is alright, and Bull takes full advantage of his pause by lunging forward, off the wall quickly with a grunt.  Dorian shrieks laughter, just managing to twist out of the way again when Solas’ voice floats through the wall, “Whatever you’re doing in there, please stop it.  Some of us are trying to rest!”

 

Bull laughs uproariously, a real bellow of delight.  Dorian snickers and tries to scramble up on the bed again, but the sheets are tangled and he stumbles, falling forward onto hands and knees.  He hears the sharp intake of breath from Bull, feels the strong hands grip his hips - not in capture, but in aid.  Dorian gives himself up to it, the security of the touch, rolling as he falls, coming to rest on his back.  As Bull crawls onto the bed to hover over him, grinning, panting slightly, Dorian smiles at him. “Not too much work for you, amatus?”

Bull snorts. “Barely broke a sweat.  You’re gonna have to try harder than that.”

“Good Maker, why would I do that, when this is the reward?”

And Bull kisses him then, soft and sweet, languid.   _ Who knew _ _,_ thinks Dorian, as the kiss deepens,  _ Who knew that love, when I found it, would not be a gilded cage of another’s expectations, but a safe harbour, a home?  Who would have guessed I would find it here? _


End file.
